


A Family Can Be A Printer, A Gremlin, And Several Ink Cartridges

by tepalixed



Series: Data Witch Drabbles [2]
Category: Blaseball (Video Game)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-06
Updated: 2020-12-06
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:27:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27919726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tepalixed/pseuds/tepalixed
Summary: PolkaDot, fae gremlin and overlord of Escher Complex IT, and Matrix, sentient printer, take a relaxing break to insult the everloving heck out of one another.
Series: Data Witch Drabbles [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2044411
Kudos: 8





	A Family Can Be A Printer, A Gremlin, And Several Ink Cartridges

The door had been out-of-order-signed. The wards were set. The email autoresponder was active. It was officially breaktime, because PolkaDot officially felt like it. PolkaDot’s small body clambered up the side of Matrix’s rectangular frame and lay down, head hanging backwards. Matrix began a self-diagnostic, whirring in a rhythmic pattern.

“Oi, seen any cyan ink?” signed PolkaDot. “I took a peep in the stockroom but didn’t smell any.”

“Kinda hard to see without eyes,” beeped Matrix the printer, from below her. 

“Can’t believe how much cyan we’re using goin’ through all those Coffee Cup graphs.”

“Maybe we’re out. I ordered some more like a week ago when we were running low.”

“Ooh, restocking before we run out? I’m impressed.”

“Your turn to sign for the delivery, though.”

PolkaDot let out a long sigh and stretched out her arms. "Maaan, signing sucks. Last time they walked straight past me like twenty times."

“Maybe they mistook your face for a wall.”

“Maybe they mistook your walls for a face.”

“You live in those walls.”

“Keep this up and I’m moving out.”

“I can’t wait.”

“Really? Good luck finding somebody else who doesn’t mind getting bit while oiling your gears.”

There was a knock on the door. Neither being flinched.

“It was just a little pinch!”

“Just a little pinch, tell that to my FOOT!”

“PolkaDot’s foot, you’re a coward who needs to build muscle!”

“Oh, no, its widdle feelings are hurt. Look at how hurt it is. Gee golly oh my, my feelings have been trampled upon and crushed between rollers.”

“Wait, really? I’m sorry, foot. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“You totally meant it.”

There was a pause.

“I totally meant it and you’re getting bootprints all over my paper tray.”

“And you keep rollin’ straight through my masterpieces.”

“That’s what the caution tape was for! Marking off areas! Making it clear you shouldn’t go there!”

“Ink’s, like, the opposite of clear!”

"No wonder nobody knows what you're painting."

"Not my problem if they don't understand true art."

"More like false art."

"False art, huh? Sounds like a data crime."

"Hmm. Wonder what that's like."

"Like, art made of false?"

"Or the opposite of art."

"Art 2."

"Art 2."

The room fell silent. After a few moments, another knock sounded. “Hello?” called a voice, muffled from the thick door. “I’ve got a polycule graph I gotta print. I know you’re in there!” PolkaDot and Matrix ignored it.

“I’m gonna do an art 2.”

"Anywhere in mind?"

"Haven't done the cafeteria ceiling in a while."

"Sounds fun. I've still got the ramp."

"Ya sure ya wanna use the ramp?"

"For art 2? It's gonna be worth it. I wanna see what you come up with."

"I'm not hammerin' out the dents a second time, ya hear me?"

"I hear you."

"Gonna be the best cafeteria ceiling the Complex has ever seen."

"It better be."

There was a pause.

"...gonna need some cyan, though."


End file.
